Father's Shoes
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: Andrew has an unexpected reaction to Sam. SPOILERS toward the end of season 6. Slash, incest, implied incest, and lemon. Read at your own risk. ONESHOT.


**Title: **Father's Shoes

**Author: **IndigoNight

**Summary: **Andrew has an unexpected reaction to finding out he has a half brother.

**Feedback: **Yes please, yay reviews!

**Pairing: **AndrewxSam, implied AndrewxRex

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Desperate Housewives or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun.

**Spoilers: **For the end of season six-ish.

**Warnings: **SLASH, incest, implied incest, man-sex.

**Author's Note: **There are just so many incestuous possibilities in Desperate Housewives, I couldn't resist. It's a little rushed and rough, but oh well. Read, Review,

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It had been exactly one hour and forty-three minutes since Andrew Van de Kamp had been informed that he had a brother. The first thirteen minutes had been spent in shock, then the next twenty drilling his mother for every scrap of information she had. Then, the suspicion had set in.

Andrew had spent the majority of the past hour watching his supposed brother while pretending to focus on the various order forms and spread sheets he was supposed to be working on. A part of him, probably the jealous, petty part of him, refused to believe that this man was actually who he claimed to be.

_He _was Rex Van de Kamp's son; he had loved his father more than anything; he had understood his father in ways no one else ever did; he had stolen his mother's wine and cried for hours behind his locked door after Rex's funeral. But now this pretentious little upstart thought he could just waltz in and be the perfect prodigal son. The little brown-noser didn't even look anything like Rex. Except…

Sam must have thought of something funny, because at that moment the corner of his lip lifted, just a little. It was a tiny quirk, like it wasn't meant to be noticed by anyone, but Andrew knew it. He'd stared at it a thousand times, watched it appear and then vanish again, returned it with a little smirk of his own, fantasized about kissing it into existence forever; every time Bree thought she'd won an argument without a fight, every time he 'accidentally' let something slip to the neighbors, every time Andrew had confided something in him that they both knew Bree would never find out about.

Andrew's throat suddenly constricted painfully. He still didn't trust this new comer and his motives, but he no longer doubted. The wash of emotions that filled him were impossible to describe and for several moments he lost himself in them.

"Andrew?" The puzzled inquiry jolted him back to reality. "Is something wrong?" Sam was looking at him, the faint crease between his eyebrows suddenly familiar too.

"Just… distracted, I guess," he answered, hardly aware of himself.

Sam stood and approached him; his expression concern that Andrew was at least fifty percent sure was fake. But at the moment he didn't care what was fake, the genetics weren't.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Sam was no close enough for Andrew to realize that he even used the same aftershave Rex had.

_You can bend over and…_ "No, I'm fine. Just need some… fresh air," he stood quickly, putting the counter between himself and his half-brother.

"Are you sure? You look sort of flushed." Determinedly he circled around the counter, hand extended as though about to feel Andrew's forehead, but Andrew grabbed his wrist, stopping him short. For a long moment they both froze, then Andrew used the arm he still held to pull Sam to him and kissed him hard.

Sam gasped in surprised and remained stiff under Andrew's touch for several moments, but he didn't resist and soon relented. He opened his mouth willingly to Andrew's probing tongue, falling back against the prep counter as Andrew ground against him.

Andrew let go of his wrist and gripped his hip instead, his other hand fisting in Sam's hair. After only a moment's hesitation Sam grasped Andrew's shirt, tugging at the buttons. In seconds both of their shirts were discarded carelessly on the floor and Andrew was sucking on Sam's lower lip. Their harsh pants soon filled the room as Andrew licked and tasted every inch of Sam's neck and shoulders.

"Pants," Sam panted, starting to fumble with his belt. But Andrew didn't bother with extra steps and simply yanked his pants down to his ankles.

"You know what to do?" he asked as he turned around and braced his elbows on the counter, watching Sam over his shoulder. Sam hesitated uncertainly for a moment, but nodded. "Good, then do it."

He spread his legs and closed his eyes as he felt the solid heat of Sam pressing up behind him. One slick finger – cooking oil, he guessed – pressed into him and he grunted at the intrusion. Sam was inexperienced and sloppy, but Andrew didn't care. He just wanted that thick, pulsing heat he could feel rubbing against his thigh inside of him, and fast.

"Hurry up and fuck me," he hissed.

Sam grunted and bit the nap of his neck, immobilizing him as he positioned himself. Andrew braced himself, biting his lip as the swollen head pressed at his hole. He held his breath against the initial throb of pain as Sam pushed into him, but pleasure quickly took the forefront.

"Hard," he commanded, starting to stroke his own penis with one hand, bracing himself against the counter with the other. Sam obeyed, grasping Andrew's hips as he thrust into him. His movements were fast, but shallow at first, tormenting Andrew, but Andrew was in no mood to be teased. A snap of his hips drove Sam deeper into him, rubbing against his sweet spot. Sam quickly gave in and let Andrew have it the way he wanted.

Their coupling was fast and rough, fumbling and impersonal. By the time they found their release both we sweaty and panting. Sam pulled out of Andrew and collapsed onto a stool, trembling slightly. But before he could think of anything to say Andrew was putting his clothes back on and smoothing back his hair.

"You, um, might not want to mention this to my mom," was Andrew's only comment as he left.

Andrew stood outside, shaking guitar-splinters out of his hair. He was still shaking with adrenaline, but the blind rage which had prompted him to such violent action was subsiding, leaving him feeling incredibly stupid.

He heard the front door open, but didn't turn to look. Bree gushed her goodbyes to Sam, apologizing repeatedly for Andrew's abhorrent behavior.

Andrew listened in silence, not moving from his semi-shadowed spot under a tree. He sincerely hoped that no one would notice him.

Finally the door closed and Sam headed to his car. Thinking himself safe from confrontation, Andrew started to head home.

"So I get that you hate me," Sam's voice was soft and non-accusatory; "I don't really blame you either. But if you feel so passionately about it, why did you…"

"Have sex with you in the test kitchen?" Andrew supplied helpfully. He looked back over his shoulder at his half-brother. "Because for a second, I thought maybe I had just a little piece of my dad back," he smirked hollowly, "But as it turns out, you don't quite… measure up."


End file.
